How Sweet It Is

Poetry, Day Seven: Flavor

 

Light Pink Octagon

Light Pink Octagon

Sweetness is a thief

Sneaking across my tongue, lighting a fire in my brain

quietly

Sweetness is pink

fancy__dexter_cupcake.jpg

Sweetness lingers in the air

a cool breeze on a hot day

it is the glitter upon freshly fallen snow

Sweetness is pink

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Enlightened

Rare

For this week’s challenge, show us something that stands out from the everyday.

This challenge really challenged me- which is a good thing.

Ii spent a lot of time think about the things that stand out from the everyday and what I realize was that the world is full of things that are unique.

That’s when it occured to me, light is rare and unique- from the source to your eye to your brain light is rare, nobody will ever see it the way you do.

I won’t see it shining the same way you do reflected in a painting or against someone’s face or from the Sun or the stars.

So here they are, rare, beautiful, unique-

 light.

Photo A.M. Moscoso

Photo A.M. Moscoso

Photo A.M. Moscoso

Photo A.M. Moscoso

Photo A.M. Moscoso

Photo A.M. Moscoso

Photo A.M. Moscoso

Photo A.M. Moscoso

YAY ME!

Daily Prompt

Write a new post in response to today’s one-word prompt

Fierce

.yay

 

I did it!

This month I did a post a day.

That’s 31 Posts.

Yay Me!

I TOOK THE CREATIVE BULL BY IT’S CREATIVE HORNS AND I MADE IT MINE.

I AM A FIERCE WRITER!

Well anyhoo this is what I  accomplished this month:

Vilhelm Hammershoi

Vilhelm Hammershoi

I’ve tried new things like writing Poetry.

Poetry is fun, I’m really glad I don’t know what I’m doing. I was really sad to find out there are rules and I’m not following them- I’m not sad I didn’t follow the rules, I’m just sad there are some.

I’ve also explored artwork- I’ve discovered I really have a love for  Abstract Art   and Impressionist Art. There are rules in that too, but I don’t have to care because I can’t paint. I can barely write legibly and I screw up stick figures. So I just get to admire the art and be inspired by it.

I’ve also discovered some great blogs to read so my bus commute home is fun and I no longer spend the bus ride hoping I’ll get hit by lightening and spared that particular form of drudgery.

Yay on that.

Monet

Monet

And the biggest take away this month has been that I really do like the sound of my own (writer’s ) voice, no matter what is going on I CAN find the time to write and create and to top it all off we are done with August and I can go into full Halloween Mode.

YAY YAY YAY.

John Quidor

John Quidor

So the posts will continue on a daily basis- where it goes nobody knows, there are a lot of writing projects to be tried.

But Halloween is going to be a big deal around here and that will color a lot of what I write about.

Just FYI

amm

 

Out Of The Blue

Poetry, Day Six: Screen

You’re reading these words on a screen. Screens — comforting, addictive, inescapable — are everywhere, especially when we read and write (and blog). Today, write a poem about, against, or in homage to the screens in your life. Or write about some other kind of screen — for example, the one stretched across your window, or the piece of cloth on which movies are projected at the theater.

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It chased me in my dreams

it chases me when I wake

Facebook

              why do you follow me

              into the bathroom?

Facebook

              why do you care what I eat

                                          what I wear

                                              what I think?

Are you a God?  A Devil? A Demon?

      You judge my harshly Facebook, you frown upon me, scold me

         When I chose to think

             for myself

                   or chose to be

                                alone.

Facebook

               You ask when I sin

                       when I vote

                           when I’m good

                                      and when I’m bad.

                                          Did I fly a Rainbow flag?

                                             Did  I weep for the kittens

                                                left in a bag, on a road

                                                    all alone

                                                         defenseless in the cold?

Facebook

                                                 Do you think you

                       are

                                 Santa Claus?

My Mom or my Dad?

                                           Because I  know you are not

                           I’m glad you’re not.

  You have

no passion

no Soul

housed

in your cyberbones.

Facebook

   I wish we could

pull your plug, cut  your cord

 live again

without

stating

repeating

endlessly

relentlessly

to the very end

of each and every day.

Facebook

How can we turn you off, turn you away, live for the moment

 without looking down

without looking away.

We can live out of the blue.

Facebook

we

existed

without you

before.

Bill Traylor

Bill Traylor